Fruitcakes

You know I was talking to my friend Desdemona the other day
She runs this space station and bake shop down near Boomtown
She told me that human beings are flawed individuals
That the cosmic bakers took us out of the oven a little too early
And that's the reason we're as crazy as we are, and I believe it!
Take for example, when you go to the movies these days
You know, they try to sell you this jumbo drink
8 extra ounces of watered-down Cherry Coke
For an extra 25 cents. I don't want it
I don't want that much organization in my life
I don't want other people thinking for me
I want my Junior Mints
Where did the Junior Mints go in the movies?
I don't want a 12 lb. Nestle's crunch for 25 dollars
I want Junior Mints!
We need more fruitcakes in this world and less bakers!
We need people that care!
I'm mad as hell and I don't want to take it anymore!

Fruitcakes in the kitchen, fruitcakes on the street
Struttin' naked through the crosswalk in the middle of the week
Half-baked cookies in the oven, half-baked people on the bus
There's a little bit of fruitcake left in everyone of us

Paradise, lost and found, paradise, take a look around
I was out in California where I hear they have it all
They got riots, fires and mudslides, they've got sushi in the mall
Water bars, brontosaurs, Chinese modern lust
Shake and bake, life with the quake, the secret's in the crust

Fruitcakes in the kitchen, fruitcakes on the street
Struttin' naked through the crosswalk in the middle of the week
Half-baked cookies in the oven, half-baked people on the bus
There's a little bit of fruitcake left in everyone of us

Speakin' of fruitcakes, how 'bout the government?
Your tax dollars at work!

We lost our Martian rocket ship, the high-paid spokesman said
Looks like that silly rocket ship has lost its cone-shaped head
We spent 90 jillion dollars trying to get a look at Mars
I hear universal laughter ringing out among the stars

Fruitcakes in the galaxy, fruitcakes on the earth
Struttin' naked towards eternity, we've been that way since birth
Half-baked cookies in the oven, half-baked people on the bus
There's a little bit of fruitcake left in everyone of us

Religion, religion
Oh, there's a thin line between Saturday night and Sunday morning
Here we go now, alright, altar boys
Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa, Mea Maxima Culpa
Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa, Mea Maxima Culpa

Where's the church, who took the steeple?
Religion's in the hands of some crazy-ass people
Television preachers with bad hair and dimples
The God's honest truth is it's not that simple
It's the Buddhist in you, it's the pagan in me
It's the Muslim in him, she's Catholic, ain't she?
It's that born-again look, it's the WASP and the Jew
Tell me what's goin' on, I ain't got a clue

Now here comes the big ones, relationships!
We all got 'em, we all want 'em
What do we do with 'em?
Here we go, I'll tell ya

She said you gotta do your fair share, now cough up half the rent
I treat my body like a temple, you treat yours like a tent
But the right word at the right time may give me a little hug
That's the difference between lightnin' and a harmless lightnin' bug

Fruitcakes in the kitchen, fruitcakes on the street
Struttin' naked through the crosswalk in the middle of the week
Half-baked cookies in the oven, half-baked people on the bus
There's a little bit of fruitcake left in everyone of us

The future
Captain's log. Star date two thousand and something

We're seven years from the millennium, that's a science fiction fact
Stanley Kubrick and his buddy HAL now don't look that abstract
So I'll put on my Bob Marley tape and practice what I preach
Get Jah lost in the reggae, mon, as I walk along the beach
Stay in touch with my insanity really is the only way
Its a jungle out there kiddies, have a very fruitful day

Hey, fruitcakes in the kitchen, fruitcakes on the street
Struttin' naked through the crosswalk in the middle of the week
Half-baked cookies in the oven, half-baked people on the bus
There's a little bit of fruitcake left in everyone of us

That's right, you too
Yeah, those crumbs are spread all around this universe
I've seen fruitcakes, I saw this guy in Santa Monica
Roller-skatin' naked through the crosswalk
Down in New Orleans, in the French Market
There are fruitcakes like you cannot believe
New York, forget it, fruitcake city
Down Island, we've got fruitcakes
Spread them crumbs around
That's right, we want 'em around
Keep bakin', baby, keep bakin'